Peter Fandralson
by CreativeReading
Summary: Fandral leaves behind a son on Earth.


Peter Fandralson

It wasn't supposed to end this way. Fandral had always been careful. Exceedingly so. He took every possible precaution. And yet, he couldn't deny the truth that was in front of him.

"She is with child," Heimdall intoned gravely.

Fandral winced. Odin knew about his predilections. He had warned Fandral repeatedly that he was to keep his hands to himself during his mission on Midgard. He was simply to retrieve a dozen Berserker staffs that still remained on Midgard from the last war with the Frost Giants. There were concerns of what might happen if they fell into the wrong hands.

Fandral had only been able to recover eleven and had been distracted by a lovely Midgardian maiden. Once he gave up searching for the staffs, he lingered at her house for days, indulging himself in her warm caresses and sweet embraces. Too soon, though, he was recalled to Asgard. On a whim, a few months later, he rode out to the Observatory and asked Heimdall to look in on her, to see how she was faring.

"What do you plan to do?" Heimdall asked evenly.

Fandral swallowed hard. "Are you sure that the child is mine?"

"Quite," Heimdall said succinctly, his stare boring into Fandral.

Odin had threatened Fandral severely for his tendency to woo women wherever he went. This wasn't the first child of his that Fandral had left behind, although it had been centuries since his last indiscretion resulted in a son or daughter. "There is not much I can do. You know Odin's opinions about Midgardians. I cannot bring her here." He rubbed his temples to stave off an upcoming headache. "Please, Heimdall, I beg you, do not tell Odin."

Heimdall regarded him with narrowed eyes, giving a snort of disgust. "I will say nothing. But, if Odin asks me, I cannot lie to my king."

"Thank you. And . . . and could you keep an eye out for them?" he asked, his heart in his throat.

Heimdall gave him a ghost of a smile. "That, I will do. Most gladly."

00000

Months turned into years and Fandral was as constant a father as he could be. He hounded Heimdall at every opportunity, reliving his child's first words, his first steps, his first day at school. Fandral and Heimdall's friendship grew as Heimdall related all that he saw in young Peter's life. Heimdall was proud of Fandral's interest in the boy, although they both knew that Odin would never allow them to meet. Then, one day, the news arrived as Fandral trained at the palace.

"You have an urgent message from Heimdall," the messenger said, breathless from the exertion. "You are to go to the Observatory at once."

Fandral immediately fled the palace, taking the fastest steed he could find, working the poor animal into a lather in his attempt to reach the Observatory as quickly as possible.

"What is it? I came as quickly as I could," Fandral said, trying to catch his breath.

"The Lady Meredith . . ."

"What!" Fandral nearly shouted.

"She is near death."

"Near death? You looked in on her but a few months ago and you said that she was well," Fandral said.

"And she was. The disease is a horrible one, ravaging the body. They have no effective cure on Midgard."

"And here? What about here?" Fandral asked, desperation causing his voice to rise to a fever pitch.

Heimdall shook his head. "She is too far gone."

"The boy?" Fandral asked.

"He is devastated, of course. But he has family there. A grandfather."

"He should be with me! He should have been with me from the start!" Fandral yelled as he began frantically pacing the Observatory. "They both should have. Blast Odin and his rules and his prejudices against the Midgardians. I should have stood up to him. I should have . . . I should have . . . . ." Fandral trailed off as he sank to his knees, sobbing in anger and frustration. "All this time wasted, just to curry favor with the king."

Presently, he took a deep breath and stood, facing Heimdall. "Bring him here. As soon as his mother passes. Bring him to Asgard."

"You know I cannot," Heimdall said.

"If our friendship means anything to you, you will do this for me. Heimdall, bring me my boy," Fandral said firmly.

"For years I have indulged you. Whenever you have asked, I have cast my gaze on your son and informed you of his progress. But this, I cannot do. I cannot go against the express commands of my king," Heimdall said emphatically.

"Then we are both cowards before the king," Fandral spat out. "Fine. There are other ways to bring someone to Asgard," he said darkly.

"I would advise against it," Heimdall warned.

"You would," Fandral said, his lip curled in disgust, as he strode out of the Observatory.

00000

It took nearly a week combing some of the seediest taverns on Asgard, but Fandral finally made the right contacts to commission a ship to visit Midgard and return with his son. He pressed an obscene amount of credits into the man's palm, not knowing if his predator's grin or the fact he named his crew "Ravagers" was Yondu's more distasteful quality.

"Half now and half when the boy is delivered to me," Fandral said sternly.

"Of course," Yondu said, oozing fake sincerity.

"He's not to be harmed in any way," Fandral said severely. "And, he's not to be taken until after his mother dies. I do not want to rob him of even a second of her company."

"Wait till she's gone. Got it," Yondu said curtly.

"If you attempt to cross me in any way, you will regret it," Fandral warned.

"Nothing to worry about. I'll deliver him safe and sound."

"See that you do," Fandral said before standing and making his way out of the bar as quickly as he could. The last thing he needed was for someone to see him making a deal with a known smuggler.

"So, we're going to go pick up that boy?" his second in command asked idly, playing with a knife.

"Sure, we'll pick him up, why not? But we sure as hell aren't delivering him to that guy. I hate Asgardians. A bunch of stuck-up prigs. Did you see him skedaddle out of here? They always think they're so much better than everyone else. Looks like we got ourselves a bunch of credits, boys. Let's see how drunk we can get before we blow this planet," Yondu said to his crew and he was greeted by a chorus of cheers.


End file.
